Choice
by Lady Amiee
Summary: We're all given a choice on how we live our lives, but sometimes, when we step wrong, we're given another chance, another chance to choose our path. When I died, I didn't want to carry on, but I had to choose between an eternity in the shadows in the lost realms, or ... a future in Mass Effect. (Self Insert.) Rated M for Self harm, language and grim dark content.
1. Prologue

_Well, I guess dying doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. _

"_You are not dead. You are in the realm of choice." _

A voice washed over me, cold yet comforting, warm yet terrifying. Age spanning all of time and space lingered in that voice, but I had no idea how I knew that. _It wasn't meant to talk back. It was meant to be silent. Why won't anything go right? God, I can't even die properly. _

"_You, Lizvetta Ravenscroft, chose to take your life. You chose to die because your life hurt too much to live, correct?" _ the voice asked, seeming to come closer in the darkness that surrounded me. "_You wrists are marked by your wish to die, because you could not bear to live." _

_Hurt too much to live . . . yeah, I guess you could say that, _I responded, vivid flashes of my life blazing past my vision. Flickers of pain, memories best buried, all dragged into the open like commercials, seconds of my life I wanted to be over. _Why are you showing me this? Stop! _

"_I am not showing you these images. They come from your mind, from your memories. When a soul dies, it cries out for salvation, and sometimes, I am the one to answer. Your soul is not done, it feels as if it has more to accomplish, and I have come to give you a choice." _

_I don't want to go back. Please, don't make me go back. It hurts. _

"_Lizvetta Ravenscroft. You may choose to continue on, to go to the place of souls lost, or you may choose another path." _the voice of choices said, denying my protests; uncaring, and without comfort. "_Should you choose the first, only darkness and pain will await you, your soul gone to the lost lands, but should you choose the latter, you leave the life you wish to escape from and enter a new world, one of manmade creation. You will be given the skills you will need to survive. Trust in them and you will not falter." _

_I just want to die . . .. Haven't I been through enough? You saw what happened to me. What I lived through. Can't I just . . . sleep? _

"_No. Choose. Be lost upon the stars, or travel amongst them." _

_I don't want to be lost . . .. I wanted to be gone, but never lost. I've been lost before . . . I don't want to feel that again. I don't want to feel anything._

"_Is your choice made?"_

_Yes._

Electricity sparked around me, arching through the air and slamming into my chest. Energy swirled and I came apart, shattered into a million pieces like torn petals in a gale. Every molecule of my being screamed in agony, as if someone had set me on fire, burning me alive. I screamed, begged, and pleaded for it to stop, but no such mercy came. My voice broke and my body came together in a flash of light, the force throwing me back.

As I flew through space, I heard the voice once more. "_You will not hear from me again, but I wish you luck in your new life, and hope this second chance brings joy, not pain. You have been placed on a station called Omega. Find the one known as Thane Krios. His soul is also lost. Perhaps you can find one another." _

I blinked my eyes open as the voice of choices washed over me for the final time, leaving me in numbing silence. "Ow," I whispered, my voice ragged with the screams torn from my throat. I blinked again, the mist of tears leaving, giving me my first sight of the world the voice had sent me to.

_Oh. My. God._

* * *

**_A/N: Well, as you all know, I have a self insert, but I've decided to write something a little more . . . real. A little more me. Lizvetta is my real name, Amiee, in my other SI is my chosen name. _**

**_I wanted to explore the Mass Effect we don't get to see, and this is what I came up with, so, I hope you enjoy it, and leave me some feedback with your thoughts. _**

**_Some big thanks to Palven Blues, TenyumeKasumi and Mizdirected, for being amazing women, friends and beta readers. Thank you all for giving me the courage to strip down who I am, and write this story that I hope will be worth the emotional agony I know is to come. _**

**_Also, thanks to Mizdirected for the awesome cover; the symbol of the Shuriken blade wrapped in a flower means balance, harmony and of course, choice. _**


	2. Panic

The first thing I noticed about the world I'd been thrown into was the smell: trash, rot, decay, and sweaty bodies all pressed together into a slurry of vomit-inducing clouds. Hundreds of scents assaulted my senses. The first and most prevalent example of the olfactory overload was a huge dinosaur … _thing_, stood beside me. The pungent odour of the lumbering creature irritated my nose, making it wrinkle a little as I sidled away, not wanting to capture the creature's attention. It could be hostile for all I knew, its aggression triggered by movement. Staring at it, I tried to figure out what exactly it was, and whether it was dangerous to me.

_Krogan. _

I blinked at the whisper that sounded like a thousand voices drifting through my mind, realizing that it originated from myself. The thought, almost a poke, pushed its way in, and I realized it sounded a little like the voice that brought me here. I blinked and tried to study it without being too obvious. It stood a couple of feet taller than my rather unimpressive five foot seven, and where I had long, jet-black hair, it had … a large, plated helmet thing on its head.

It glanced at me, red eyes burning as it turned, the large hump-thing on its back casting shadows over my face. "What do you want, human?" he asked, his voice a deep, distinctly male grunt. The sound almost vibrated through me, sending fear skating up my spine.

I blinked and backed away, hands up defensively. "N-Nothing, I'm s-sorry," I stammered, forcing the words past my dry lips. I stumbled, tripping over something on the ground and strong, clawed hands caught me. My feet tangled, my hands flapped, and my back pressed against something hard and unyielding.

Looking up, I almost screamed, then the voice in my head whispered, _turian. _Gasping, panicked breath began to saw through my parted lips. As the turian set me on my feet without scratching me with his terrifyingly long claws, I wrapped my arms around my waist. "Don't touch me. Please don't touch me," I pleaded, the sensation of hands on my skin agonizing. I hated being touched. It hurt. It hurt too much to bear.

"Careful, now," he said in a disjointed, dual-toned voice. "Do you need help?" he asked, not unkindly, but with a weary tone of someone that just didn't care anymore. Two odd protrusions—_mandibles_—my mind supplied, fluttered on his cheeks, and he cocked his head slightly. Weapons I didn't recognize hung from his jutting hips, and armor covered most of his body. His clawed hand moved to his gun. "Someone after you?" he asked, flicking his gaze around, suspicion on his face.

I followed his gaze, realizing I'd drawn a crowd. People gawked at me, taking in my outfit as if they'd never seen the 'rock chick' look before. Shaking my head, I backed away from them all, the names of the different races whispering through my mind, _asari, volus, elcor, human, salarian. _

One thought overruled them all.

_Run. _

My feet began to move before the thought had even finished, and I darted past the turian, ducked around a cluster of asari, and skidded through a gaggle of waddling volus. Every sight, smell, and sound slammed into me, the silence of the black void now seemed liked a solace I wished to return to. The siren song of nothing whispered around me, tempting me, but staying out of reach. I could hardly breathe, drawing in air that felt … _wrong _into my lungs, faster and faster until I grew dizzy. Everything seemed to be bathed in filth—from the walls, to the dirty, skeletal kids dipping their hands into underused trash receptacles. Hunger marked their gaunt faces as they watched me run by, and my chest clenched. On a normal day, I'd've stopped, asked them if they needed help, but today wasn't a normal day. No, today I had entered hell, and I needed to get away.

Bright lights, flashing images, vendors hawking their wares in a loud mélange of voices all pounded into my senses. I covered my ears, trying to block it out. Confusion reigned, sending me into a spiral of panic. Time slowed down, dragging out my agony, each second tearing through me like razor blades across skin. Heartbeat loud in my ears, I ran and didn't stop. I ducked into an alley, sliding between two buildings that defied physics with their sheer size.

"Oh god, oh god," I whispered, each word ripped from the haze of fear that had descended. It shrouded me, consumed me, wrapped its insidious, shadowy tentacles around me, until I felt as if I drowned in it. I stopped, unable to push through, unwilling to face the demons that taunted me, screaming in my head.

"Someone make it stop."

With my hands clapped to my ears, I began to cry. Scalding tears leaked from my eyes, trailing down my cold cheeks, leaving physical evidence of my anguish, evidence that would disappear as quickly as my old life had. I swallowed back a sob, the ragged, harsh sound of my throat contracting loud in my ears.

"Make it fucking stop!"

Hunching my shoulders, I gasped, choking on the bile surging up my throat, suffocating me. Retching and gagging, I emptied what little I held in my stomach, acid and water blending and only making my situation worse.

_Why are there always carrots? I hate carrots. _

Somehow, the little orange chunks calmed me, almost as if that slice of normal tethered my mind back to my body, stopping me from floating away into insanity.

Wiping the back of my hand over my mouth, I sank down on the floor a little way back from the puddle of vomit. I didn't have the strength to move further away, I just wanted to sit and feel nothing. Wrapping my arms around my drawn-up knees, I buried my head in my forearms and cried. I cried as the rain came, the warm, seemingly artificial shower cleaning away some of the grime around me. Time stretched on, but all I could hear was the driving rain soaking my hair and skin, blending with the desperate rasps of my broken sobbing.

"Little human lost?" a hissing, angry sounding voice rasped, drawing my head up. The creature grunted and growled, sidling closer, clawed hands in front of him. Scaly, dirt-brown skin glistened in the false rain, and teeth as long as small blades flashed. He walked closer, blood-red eyes more intelligent than his speech gave credit for.

_Vorcha, _my mind whispered, _dangerous. _I scrambled back in horror. "Go away," I whispered, crawling back on my hands and ankles. "Please … leave me alone."

"Human lost." He took another step forward, his tongue flicking out to run across his teeth. "Human _alone." _ Rags fluttered around his body, shredded leather barely covering his rangey, skeletal form.

I scurried back until my spine bumped the wall behind me. Neither my retreat, nor my pleas had any effect on the advancing vorcha. He sniffed the air, soft, almost puppy-like grunts escaping his drool-covered lips. The three tubes on top of his head pulsed, as if he was taking air through them.

"Please …. I'm not doing anything, just … shoo." I waved one hand, hoping the weak movement would dissuade him from advancing further. "Go home."

"Gartex not varren. Gartex is vorcha. No listen to human." He spat the words, garbling them in his mouth, chewing them up and spitting them out as if they tasted funny. "Human will give Gartex money. And jacket. Want jacket. Now."

I looked down at my motorcycle jacket, before raising my gaze back up to him. I shook my head, panic making me stupid, making me want to cling to the leather, the only thing I knew was really mine. "No."

He snarled, clearly done talking, and reached out his bony hand, claws extended as if he planned to tear me apart to get to his prize.

I screamed and tried to bat him away, my hair blinding me. I fell face first, landing hard and scraping my elbows on impact. Pain flared across my cheek as he hit me, and I hunched around myself, curling into the smallest ball I could manage. His claws raked at me again, catching me on the arm and tearing the leather of my jacket. I screamed again as the tip of his claw ripped into my skin. The sensation of my skin splitting felt so familiar, but so wrong; harm inflicted from an outside source.

"Mine!"

His voice, snarling and full of rage, hammered into my eardrums, and I knew I was going to die. The certainty of it settled over me like a warm blanket, and I stopped resisting. I gave up. My breath whooshed out of me, and I lay down to die.

_I can't fight him. He's too strong. Too alien. I can't fight. I don't want it to hurt though. Please … let him be merciful. _Squeezing my eyes closed, I waited for the deathblow to fall.

* * *

_**A/N: Well, here we are, another chapter of my journey into the world of Mass Effect. I hope you like it, and check out the works of my awesome Beta readers, from PalavenBlues, to TenyumeKasumi, and everyone else that worked so hard to make this into what it is. **_

_**Please read and review, I love reading them, and the confidence gained from the wonderful feedback really helps me out. Hope you enjoy! *Hugs and cookies* **_


	3. Angel

Another drop of blood fell. I waiting to die; accepting ... numb. My body floated apart from my mind, a learned state, one I fell back on more than I should. I switched off. Silence clouded around me, blurring and erasing the lines of reality, leaving me with nothing but my heartbeat, the sound a tether, a chain, a binding I didn't want. Floating in a cloud of nothingness, I didn't breathe, watching the ripples spread, ending on the periphery of the pool.

_Drip_.

_Is that my life? Just a ripple that goes nowhere? _I frowned a little at the thought, watching another scarlet tear fall to its end. Sound slowly returned, grating over me like bone over a cheese grater, waking me from the comfortable shroud in which I'd ensconced myself. At first, I could only hear whispers, kinda muffled, as if I had water in my ears.

_Drip._

I sighed, a soft, defeated sound that spirited from me before I could stop it. _I guess my second chance didn't go too well, did it? Maybe I was just meant to die, and they made a mistake in who they chose to put here? That'll be it. They made an administrative mistake, now they're cleaning up their mess so someone worthy can have a second chance. _The drips continued, soothing me, my life ticking away with each, lonely drop. _I'm just a clerical error. _

Shadows and flashes of light began vying for my attention, but ever increasing pool held me hypnotized. I didn't want to look up. I just wanted to watch the drips. They seemed important somehow. They _mattered_. Something had to matter, even if it was just the inconsequential dripping of my lifeblood leaving my body.

_Drip. _

A scream rent the air, and once again, I struggled to care. _Why won't he just get it over with? Why does he have to drag it out? _I sighed, my breath rippling the pool, an outside force, just like my pain. I heard another scuffle, then grunts and screams, vicious curses that would have made me cover my ears if I cared, but I didn't. I knew death was coming, so what was the point?

The vorcha screamed again, but nothing hit me. No claws, no pain, no ... nothing. After a moment, I peeked out just in time to see the vorcha fly across the alleyway. He hit the wall, his head bouncing off it with a sickening crack. As he crumpled—either unconscious or dead, I couldn't tell—I turned my gaze to his attacker.

He stood over the fallen creature like an avenging angel, come down from heaven to save the unworthy. His hands glowed blue, his posture stiff, and my mind supplies the image of a huge sword in his fingers. A halo of nebulous lights flickered and danced around his head, and I frowned. "I didn't know angels were so … _green_," I whispered, drawing his gaze.

I blinked, watching him bend and touch his fingers to the neck of my attacker, his eyes never leaving mine. Black, inky pools, touched with emerald focused on me, studying me, keeping me pinned. He slowly rose, the light flaring around him glowing brighter, almost encompassing me in the warmth of it.

I reached out, my hand trembling. I knew I wasn't worthy of touching the aura of the angel, but I just ... I just wanted to feel the buttery glow on my fingers, to feel something pure to wash away my fear. I wanted the cold to go away for just a second. Trailing my fingers through the dust motes swirling through the magical light, a smile tilted my lips.

"So pretty," I whispered, closing my eyes. "Thank you." I sighed, letting the creeping inevitability of unconsciousness color the fringes of my vision. My hand dropped, landing in the now-cool puddle of blood, and I groaned a little. I hated the cold. I knew what lingered in the void. I didn't want to go there. I wanted the warmth of the green-scaled angel.

Strong yet gentle arms lifted me, and I let my head fall, hair draping over his arm. My eyelids fluttered until I could see him again. Part of me protested the touch, but I couldn't deny the angel, I wouldn't deny him anything. He'd saved me, and now he would carry me to heaven.

"You are welcome," he said, adjusting me so my head rested on his chest. His voice sounded like gravel, layered with different sounds, as if more than one person spoke through him.

_Makes sense for an angel. He must be the metatron, the voice of god. Why would he come and save someone like me? _I wondered what his name was, but couldn't find the strength to ask as I inhaled the scent drifting from the jacket covering his chest. Warm, sun-baked sand, citrus, and rich, oiled leather, each one blending into an addictive aroma that took away the smell of filth, vomit and blood from the alleyway.

"You smell nice," I breathed. "Do all angels smell so good?" I frowned, thoughts blending and twisting in my head. "Does heaven smell good too?" _I can't go to heaven. Bad people don't go there. He'll get in trouble. _I raised my arm, weak, shaking, and covered in blood. Fingers brushing his face, the rough, yet smooth scales strange under my skin, I frowned. "Stop," I whispered, forcing the words past my aching throat. "You'll get into trouble."

"Be still," he told me, his arm behind my back, the other under my knees. "More will come to investigate. Vorcha live in packs, his kind will seek his prey." He looked down at me, disapproval in his eyes.

I shuddered under the weight of his gaze, the fact that I'd upset him bringing tears to my eyes. "I didn't mean to." I closed my eyes as a tear rolled down my cheek. "I got lost." _When have you ever been found? You wander lost, Liz, and no one is looking for you. _

_Drip._

"Do not weep," he breathed, his long stride carrying me further away from the dank alley. Warm, soft rain continued to fall, blending with my tears. He looked down at me again, his expression one of curiosity and concern. "Where do you live? I will escort you home."

I frowned, though my chest eased, knowing he wouldn't be getting in trouble for taking me to heaven. "I don't ... I don't have a home here." I glanced away, waiting for him to abandon me ... just like everyone else did. _Everyone goes away in the end. _Like seasons, or autumn leaves falling from dead trees, everyone tumbled through my life, leaving me in bitter winter.

He looked down at me again, and for the first time ... he smiled. The tiny tilt of his full lips bathed me in light, the warmth of it holding me in a gentle embrace, and bolstered me against the pain. "Then you will stay with me."

His words sank into me, taking away the last shred of control I had over my body, and my body fell limp. Unconsciousness took me, but instead of the cold, black void, I found safety. Safety in the arms of my angel.

* * *

**_A/N: Damn. I know I said once a month, but this story is driving me so hard, I get too excited to post, so here we are, chapter three. _**

**_I have to give massive thanks to Palaven Blues, TenyumeKasumi, MizDirected and everyone else that gave me so much help, confidence and copious amounts of cuddles when I cried writing this. Thank you all for being so wonderful, and such an amazing support group. I hope my lovely readers check out their work. _**

**_Thank you to my amazing readers too. You all leave such positive feedback, that even though this has to be one of the hardest stories I've ever written, I never want to stop. I love your feedback, and hope that you keep being amazing, generous people and leave some reviews. _**

**_Thanks for reading! Until the next chapter! _**


	4. Waking

**Written to So Cold, by Breaking Benjamin. **

* * *

I drifted among the stars, chasing asteroids of color and catching nebulous orbs of light. Pain became separate as I danced through the whirling vortex of space and time, floating in a strange dimension in my mind.

_Hey, Billy Goat, you need to wake up. _My older brother's voice whispered into my mind, his words so familiar, dredged up through hazy memories. My chest seized as if someone had cut off my air, shattering the dream of color and turning it black. Green, gold, and brown flecked so like mine sparkled with sorrow, as if he was saying goodbye. I reached out, trying to brush his face as it drifted past me. I couldn't touch him, he was too far from me.

_Fight it, Billy Goat. Wake up. _

My eyes filled with tears behind closed lids, and the stinging salt and sorrow drops fell, rolling down my cheeks as I remained frozen, unable to move. _Brother ... Don't leave me alone. Please ... I'm scared. _He didn't answer, leaving me to the world I'd been cast into, abandoning me as everyone else had. I was alone ... I hiccuped a sob, but voices stirred, halting my sorrow.

"It isn't like you to take risks, Krios." The voice sounded curious and a little angry. "Why?"

I knew I'd heard the voice before, the cadence familiar, yet still foreign, grating over me like sandpaper. Dual-tones rumbled in a way that just couldn't be ... human.

_You're not in our world now, Billy Goat. Wake up. _

I blinked as my brother's voice faded for the final time. _Brother ... _ Stirring from my sanctuary of color and numb oblivion, I tried to figure out who was speaking. I pushed against the force holding me down, panic rising in my throat, choking me. Gagging on it, I tried to open my eyes. A muffled sound left me, and I prayed someone would hear me and help.

Cool fingers brushed my brow and I froze. They were gone before I could scream, and I heard water being poured close by. "The fever has broken, she is waking." The angel's voice brushed my consciousness, soothing the nerves gnawed into frayed scraps by a thousand feasting rats.

"You didn't answer the question."

"Now is not the time, Garrus. She needs medical aid. That is more important."

"Damn it, Kaji. The mission is more important than a random girl." The sound of a slam—like something being punched—reached me, followed by the rustle of someone moving around the room.

"Not all events are random, Garrus. Some are ordained."

I tried to follow the rhythm of the voices, but I couldn't track them through the buzzing in my ears. Everything blurred and I couldn't tell how close they were, or if they were even real, or just something my mind had made up to torment me further. Seasick dizziness forced a surge of vomit up my throat, sour and acidic.

"Gon-gonna be s-sick ..." I gasped, feeling it rise into my mouth. Before I could spew chunks all over myself, someone's arm slipped around my shoulders, pulling me up and holding me over the side of the bed. My hair was held out of the way, and a bowl put under my mouth. Wave after wave of sickness ripped through me, the acrid scent stinging my nose. Ripples of contracting muscles in my stomach and throat kept the vomit coming until nothing remained, and what little strength I had waned, leaving me empty.

"Garrus, would you remove the bowl, please?" The arm around me flexed, and I caught the scent of leather and sun-baked sand.

I panted, lips parted and head spinning as the angel lay me back against the pillows. My hands trembled as I pushed him from me, the touch too much, overwhelming me. Trying to organize my scattered thoughts. My eyes fluttered closed. "Hurts ..."

"I know." Cool fingers pressed against my brow, and a sharp pain pricked in the inside of my arm. "Be still now. When you wake, you will feel better." The angel's voice slithered away, fragmenting apart, before merging again, both solid and fluid, weaving through the smoky-rich haze of the numbing drug.

I faded away, carried on a bed of feathers, only to be cast upon ragged shards of my memories. The bed dipped and I felt my fingers twitch in reflex. Even though he was an angel, I didn't like people being close to me when I slept. I was vulnerable when I slept. The demons came in the night, and the pain always followed. I didn't want to associate the pure warmth of the angel with the twisted memories of my past. Twitching again, I tried to wet my dry lips. Before I could croak out a request for water, the drugs once again slammed into me and dragged me from reality again.

Again I lost track of time, wandering through the dimensions of my mind, hearing my brother once again, whispering for me to wake up. I flipped from nightmares that left me screaming, to wondrous scenes of vast beaches and rolling seas, never settled, never still.

_Wake up, Billy Goat! _Irritation screamed through my brother's whisper, and I jerked as if he'd slapped me.

_I can't! _

My mind raced and my heart beat faster than I thought possible. In the midst of the nightmares, my thoughts broke, shattered into a thousand little pieces, and in the gentle dreams of drug induced delirium I heard it, "Be still." ... and I found peace.

"Be still." The two words became an anchor. I needed his words, the meaning behind them. If I lay still, he'd sit with me, speaking softly with the other male, or singing to himself—or me, I couldn't tell. "Be still" became my mantra, one I repeated in my head when the darkness consumed me, like bitter clouds of raging hate, angry and malevolent, always rolling across the horizon in my consciousness.

Sometimes, the angel held my hand as I screamed, and sometimes, the one called Garrus shouted his name, calling him to my side once more. Only he could calm my terror, soothing it away with his warmth. His touch didn't hurt. I don't know why—maybe because he was an angel or because I'd been sent to him—but he didn't hurt me when he held me.

Time flickered; how long, I didn't know, too lost in the fluid haze that lifted me, carried me, consumed me. Voices drifted in and out, and I remembered my bandages being changed by gentle hands. As time shifted, becoming a twisting vortex of color, scent, sound and sensation, I began to wake, pushing through the maelstrom. I tumbled through it until I landed, bumping back to the soft bed, returning to my body and jolting into awareness.

Opening my eyes, I groaned softly, feeling every single prickle and ache that sent complaining signals to my overloaded brain. "Wrnghs."

_That made sense. _

I tried again, forcing the words past my dry lips, "Water ..." My voice sounded so small, like the whisper of a gentle summer breeze through the cornfields in my memory.

"You're awake," came a soft, dual-toned voice.

My eyelids fluttered open just in time to see the taloned hand reaching for my arm.

The instant the contact closed, I screamed, a tornado of sound now, no longer soft. Raw, desperate, and agonizing pain ripped through my psyche. Tumbling memories all blurred into one, the feeling of skin on mine sparking a chain reaction. Trickling memories of unwelcome, painful touch all blinded me, blocking out rationality. My breathing became erratic, sawing in and out of my chest, my whole body trembling like a leaf battered by a gale.

_Don't touch me! _

My jailor gripped my arms, pinning me to the bed, attempting to stop my tormented writhing. I screamed again, thrashing against the mattress, against the person binding me, touching me.

_It hurts!_

I had no name for the agony, there just wasn't one to encompass the sheer depth of the pain. It consumed me, burned through me like a twisted, angry inferno.

"Don't touch me!"

"Thane!" my tormentor roared, before his icy eyes, full of panic and confusion, met mine. "Stay still. You're going to tear your stitches."

"Please! Stop! It hurts! Let me go!" I begged, screamed and fought, my nails raking hard skin, seeking escape. "Stop!"

My wrists were caught and held my hands to either side of my head. "Calm down!"

I thrashed my head from side to side, hair flying around my face, choking me, sticking to my tear-streaked face. "Stop touching me!" I couldn't form the words to explain. Only two escaped my lips. "Stop it!" The hold tightened and my voice broke.

I fell.

Lost in memory, I fell, and my mind shut down.

I knew there was no point in fighting, so I lay still, eyes wide, blank and unseeing. My body as still as death itself, I accepted and bore the pain, just waiting for it to end. It always ended, and then ... I would purge it. My breathing became shallow, heart fluttering in my chest like a tortured bird trying to take flight, but I didn't move. I knew better than to move.

The one pinning me grunted, hands tightening slightly, though I didn't flinch. "Help me with her."

"What happened?" The angel's voice echoed through the room, a sharp whip of question.

Stuck in a nightmare, I waited for the pain to begin. Footsteps whispered across the ground, almost silent, but my panic made each sound rake across my eardrums, shrieking like metal and glass grinding together.

"What happened?" Thane asked again.

"I touched her and she freaked out, started screaming and begging for me to stop."

_Don't trust it. _

"What else did you do?"

_It's not him. It's all a lie, a bad dream. It'll pass. Stay numb. Block it out. _

"When she started thrashing, I thought she might hurt herself, so I pinned her down ..."

The angel cursed, "Garrus, look at her arms. She has suffered many injuries before now. There is more to this woman than meets the eye. Release her."

The tight grip on my upper arms vanished, but I still didn't move. Frozen, suspended in the protective embrace of my own world, I remained detached, waiting for them to finish their game, to begin the next step. They always played at first, tried to get me to wake. They liked it when I screamed. I wouldn't fall for it.

"Why's she not moving?"

"Give her a moment. She has ... disconnected."

"Dis—"

"Please wait in the other room. I shall attempt to calm her." Dark, sorrowful eyes came into my field of vision, surrounded by emerald scales and black markings. "No one will hurt you. I apologize for my friend, he meant you no harm." The green-skinned alien gestured, and the sound of a door closing reached me.

We remained suspended for several long moments, watching one another. He didn't move, barely breathed, just waited for me to wake. I could smell him, the comforting scent of well-oiled leather, sun-soaked sand, and soft, clean ... male.

_It's okay, Billy Goat. Breathe ... Just don't stop breathing. _I timed my breaths, matching them with the drell's, calming, soothing, the gentle repetition waking me.

After a while, he shifted, watching my reaction. When I didn't scream, he smiled a little. "Would you like some water?" He moved slowly, as if he didn't want to spook me into screaming again, while reaching for something out of sight. Bringing a sippy cup of clear water into view, he held out the straw, offering it to my lips.

After a long pause, I leaned my head forward and captured the straw. Drinking like a woman walking the desert and stumbling into an oasis, I gulped down the fresh, cold water. The easing of my throat rejuvenated me, waking me further, untangling the confusing mess of my mind.

"Slowly," the drell whispered, taking the drink away for a moment to let me suck in some air. "Your body has been under a lot of strain." He let me have another drink, and when I turned my head he took it away. "Will you tell me your name?"

I gave a tiny jerk of my head, waiting for him to back up, to let me calm down. When he'd stepped away, stood a few feet from the bed, I pushed off the mattress and dragged myself up, each movement like a shard of agony.

A low groan of pain left me, and Thane took a step forward.

"Don't." I held up a hand, silently pleading with him to not step closer as I took another ragged breath. If he triggered me again, I might not wake up.

_It's always a risk ... shutting down, Billy Goat. Sometimes, coming back was the hardest part. _

I let time collapse for a moment before I met his eyes. "Lizvetta ..."

His expression faltered, but smoothed out before I could name the expression. I could've sworn I saw recognition. He cleared his throat, capturing my attention again. "My name is Thane Krios." He set the water close to me before backing away.

_It's him ... _My hands froze in the act of reaching for the cup again, and my eyes widened. "What did you say?" I whispered. _It can't be ... _"You're not an angel." I flushed as I realized the words had spilled from my lips, cast into the air for all to hear and judge.

Slightly darker green ridges that formed his brow lowered, and he blinked slowly. After a moment, his full lips quirked. "No, I am not, quite the opposite, in fact." His smile fell, and his expression became bitter. "To the population of Omega, I am known as Mahkaji."

From behind him, the other one, the one whose touch sent me flying away, came into view. When his cold eyes looked at me, I tensed, but he stayed just far enough away; his icy-blue stare on me as he spoke. "He's Mahkaji, the Angel of Death ... and I'm Archangel."

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**_A/N: Well ... that happened, no? Gah, dumb Garrus, don't you know never to touch broken people when they're waking up after being attacked by creepy vorcha?_**

**_I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that the several rewrites made it all the better for you as a reader. I have to give some thanks to my beta's, Palaven Blues and TenyumeKasumi for working through this one with me, and giving me the strength to push through the pain and paint the page with words. Ha, poetic. Bleh._**

**_Anyway, thanks for reading, please read and review, your support is amazing and invaluable. *Cookies and hugs for all* Thank you for coming back, and I hope you continue to do so._**


	5. Questions

_The Angel of Death? _

The words hung heavy in the air, weighting the silence that fell afterwards. No one spoke, and I hardly breathed. I looked at Thane, meeting his eyes. Emerald-green flashed behind the inky depths revealing the emotions hidden there: bitterness, loss, hopelessness, and rage. Once again, I saw recognition.

"You knew my name," I breathed, watching him give an almost imperceptible nod. I shelved the questions for now, and turned to the other male in the room. "I know you," I said, looking at him. "You were in that place ... the market." My hands clenched around the cup, and my knuckles popped. He was the turian that had asked me if I was running from someone. "You tried to help me."

The spines of his crest gleamed as he nodded his head.. "Yes, and you ran away as soon as you saw me." He stopped, glancing at Thane, analyzing him, before pinning me in his glare. "Tell me why you were with Garm. Are you his spy?" The words whipped through the air, hitting me like a slap and jerking my head back in response.

I opened my mouth to speak, to defend myself in some way, but the green-scaled drell put his hand on the bed beside me; a silent warning for me to wait.

_Careful, Billy Goat. _

A tendril of unease tangled in my chest, keeping me silent.

"Garrus." He stood up, turning his back to me and facing the turian. Warning thickened his voice a little as he spoke, "She has only this moment risen from unconsciousness and is clearly sick. Your questions will hold for a while longer." He looked over his shoulder, meeting my eyes, determination and ... apology lingering in his gaze. "Let her rest, for now."

I dragged myself into sitting position, propping myself up on the pillows. I bit my lip, but decided to leave the 'for now' part well enough alone; at least until I had the strength to run if needed. "What happened?" I asked, trying to ignore the turian who ran a hand over his crest, oozing frustration and anger. Keeping him in sight as he paced, I looked down at myself. Bandages covered my right arm and wrapped around my chest, white gauze against pale skin. "How badly was I hurt?" I struggled to remember the attack, seeing nothing but blurry images and feeling only a distant echo of pain. My mind had blocked it, as it did with all bad memories; it was the only way I could stay sane sometimes.

Thane hesitated and folded his arms behind his back. Leather creaked, a hushed whisper of sound, and the scent of him reached me again: warm leather, and sun-soaked sand. "Your wounds were severe ... We treated you as best we could, but the scarring will be extensive." He bowed his head a little, and his voice became somber. "I regret not being able to spare you that."

I sighed, lifting my left arm. Gently removing the bandages, I winced as the dried blood cracked and began to pool on the surface. Stitches lined the long wound, beginning at the inside of my elbow and winding around the inner arm to my wrist. Puffy, red and bruised, the livid slice seemed to radiate a sickly glow. _Must have been really deep. It hasn't even knitted properly yet. _

I looked up. "It cut the vein?"

"Yes."

Shrugging and re-wrapped the dressing, I absently noted Thane's surprised expression. _Yeah, I can wrap a wound left-handed, without looking, while bleeding heavily, it's called practice. _"Thanks for patching me up." I looked up at him, keeping my expression clear of the thoughts racing through my head. I wanted to cut, to erase the scars that weren't mine, but I couldn't say anything, not without them thinking I was insane.

"Thanks are not necessary," Thane whispered. "Are you in pain? I will bring something for you."

Garrus cursed softly, shoulders tense "Enough. She's here for questioning, not pampering." He looked at me, anger and mistrust burning in his expression. "Heal fast, human." With the words hanging in the air behind him, the turian stalked away, and silence fell.

After a moment, I looked up at Thane. "What's his problem?" I asked, drawing my legs up. Wrapping my arms around them, ignoring the flare of pain as the stitches pulled, I rested my chin on my wrists.

Thane sighed and sat down beside me again. His lips tilted into a small smile. "Garrus has much on his mind. His mission comes before all else, sometimes even more so than his sense of compassion. He forgets that not everyone is an enemy."

"His mission?" I asked, swallowing and running my tongue across my lips. I could still taste the sick from earlier, and though I'd had water, my mouth felt dry and my teeth felt furry. _I need a toothbrush. _

"His mission … _our _mission," he started, his tone becoming softer. "Is to find redemption. Garrus has not told me all of his reasons, and I keep my own to myself, but our goals are the same." He paused for a moment, eyes on mine. "Omega is a place of corruption, death, drug trade, prostitution, and gang activity. Every day, the people here are harmed by those who place their own greed before the welfare of those in their care. We are here to stop that from happening."

"Sounds like you took on a huge job," I said, remembering the vorcha, the fear in the children's eyes, their skinny, starving bodies. I remembered the hunched and huddled forms of homeless people crowding around for warmth. _Yeah _… _this place is so dirty, I'm not sure two people alone can fix it._

"Garrus sees you as a vulnerability, a hindrance." Thane sighed softly, his hands resting on his thighs as he leaned forward. "I, however, do not."

"Why not?" I asked, searching his eyes. "I'm nothing special …."

Thane shook his head, blinking slowly as he met my eyes. "Yes, you are." He paused, as if debating something, before drawing in a soft breath. Shaking his head a little, he smiled and stood. "For now, rest, heal and we can speak more when you wake." He turned away and left the room, the door closing silently behind him.

Now alone, I slid down the bed, absently wondering whose it was. Catching the scent of Thane on the pillow, I bit my lip a little, feeling guilty, but the fog of exhaustion descended, and I worried no more.

_Goodnight, Billy Goat. _

Smiling at the sound of my brother's voice, I drifted away into a sea of warmth, steeling my mind in preparation for the dreams I knew would come.

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_**A/N: Hey, y'all! Here we go, another chapter for ya. Hopefully you like it, and will give some feedback. Your reviews give a lot of help with this story, so keep them coming. **_

**_Huge thanks to PalavenBlues, TenyumeKasumi, LachDannen for the wonderful beta reading they did for me! Please go check out their stuff, it's brilliant. _**

**_Anyway, thanks for checking out the next installment, and I hope you come back for more! _**


	6. Cut

**Written to the song 'Cut' by the band Plumb. Trigger warnings for self harming here, guys. Please don't read if if you're sensitive to self harm and everything that goes with it. **

* * *

Hot, steamy water bathed my skin as I huddled in the shower, washing away the stains of the alley and scent of sickness. The sound of water blocked out everything but my thoughts—but they never turn off, something I'd accepted a long time ago. _You can't turn off the demons in your head. The bastard world just doesn't work that way. It never does. _

I watched the steam swirling around me, untouchable, almost spectral; like sanity, in some ways. _Am I going insane again? _Knots of tension balled in my shoulders, and my fingers trembled as I ghosted my hand through the mist. _What am I doing here? Thane wants to help me, Garrus wants to interrogate me. Not sure what Thane thinks he can do. People try to put me back together, as if I were some Humpty Dumpty, but not even all the king's horses could fix something as broken as me. Even I can't pull myself together anymore. _

I bent my head forward, letting my hair turn into silken sheets on either side of my face as I watched the water swirling away. _Am I just circling the cosmic drain?_ Bracing my hands on the white tile wall, I sighed. _When will they fix the clerical error? Will they realize they saved the wrong person and switch me off? _

The worst part of it all, was that I just didn't know when the end was coming. Death kept no chains of terror wrapped around my neck. I'd never feared it. But my life had left me with very few choices, and I'd be damned before I let the powers that be snatch away the choice of how and when I died.

_It's my choice. Not the choice of another, not even a god. _

I froze as I heard something outside the bathroom door. The soft steps paused, intruding on the time I needed to sort through the jumble of thoughts rattling around in my head. Shuffling back into the warmth of the water, I began to tremble. _Please don't open the door. _The footsteps carried on, and I slowly relaxed. _Must've been Thane checking on me. _Deciding I'd been soaking for too long—_don't you mean hiding?_—I quickly washed myself, running my soap-covered hands over my scarred limbs.

Once my skin glowed from the extreme scrubbing, I stepped out of the cubicle and dried myself off. After throwing on my clothing—now washed and smelling clean—I tied back my hair. The fresh scars prickled, despite the soft quality of the towel, and I sighed softly.

_These scars aren't mine. _I ran my finger over my arm, tracing the raised ridge, pressing a little to make it hurt. I needed it to hurt. _I need to make them mine. My choice. _

Looking away, I met my eyes in the mirror and froze.

Across my cheek, a vivid, raised scar burned against my pale skin, and from my collarbone to my ribs roped another. My arm I could deal with, a few cuts would make it mine, but my face? My chest? _I can't _… _I need to _…. _It hurts_. _I need to make it go away. I need to _….

I began to shake, the need to purge the poison flaring to life. My shoulders hunched and my expression closed down. Lip curling, I turned from the mirror and began to search the cupboards in the room. My hands moved silently, practiced and sure, but the shaking became harder to control. My thoughts buzzed, distant and hazy as the pull to cut blistered through me, shutting down higher function; I ran on instinct now.

_Blade? _I found a razor, wondering why the hell a drell and a turian needed one, and took it apart, extracting the sliver of glinting metal. It leered back at me, as hungry to bite into my flesh as I was to be bitten. _Check. _I smiled, running a finger over the blade, drawing a drop of rust-colored blood. _Even my blood is dirty_. _I have to get it out of me. _My eyes traced the blade for a moment, but I stopped myself from getting distracted; I needed to focus, no matter how hard it was to stop myself from cutting before I was ready.

_Bandages? _I bit my lip and looked down at the loose shirt Thane had provided while I'd been unconscious. Using the edge of the razor to get me started, I tore it into strips, before rolling them into makeshift bandages. _Check. _Almost numb, settled into the peaceful space of my rituals, the pull became stronger, cutting out the sense of reality, leaving me in a bubble of urgency.

_Needle and thread? _Under the sink, I found a small medical kit and opened it, laying out the contents. _Shit. _Nothing but some painkillers and some medi-gel. Putting the latter aside for later—I didn't need the former at all—I rummaged in the cupboard a little more, before returning to the center of the room, triumphantly clutching a sewing kit. _Check. _

_Now I'm ready. _

Sitting cross legged in the white-tiled bathroom, I set my tools down. Lining them, counting them, making sure everything lay perfectly in order, balanced and symmetrical. The rigidity to my routine soothed the harsh rage that rippled through me. My breathing slowed with each new item, and my heartbeat became a steady thump of inevitability, slowly beating to its end.

I needed this.

Icy-cold metal met overly hot skin, and I closed my eyes. A second passed.

_One_.

Searing pain, so familiar and welcome, sliced through me, and I let out my breath in a soft exhale. The first cut always felt best, easing the tremors and soothing my soul. Like silk brushing silk, the sound of skin tearing whispered in my ears like the greeting of an old friend long missed.

A rush of pleasure, pain, and endorphins slammed through my veins, giving me the release I desperately needed. Looking down, I examined the wound. It stuttered across my skin, a ragged, hollow cut. Blood pooled, little rivers of the poison that lingered inside me. Streaking across my flesh, the demons escaped, leaving me cleaner, but not pure. I could never be pure.

_Two. _

The blade sliced into my skin again, inch by inch, deeper as I pressed harder. Scarlet tears welled on the surface, my skin weeping in a way I couldn't. Crimson coated my fingers as well as the blade I held so tightly. I didn't think I could let go … even if I wanted to. The second cut drew a cleaner line; the trembling stopping as I let the urgency fade, relaxing into the routine, the pattern I could follow without thought.

_Three. _

Another cut curved in a delicate arch over the soft, fleshy part of my forearm. Cutting my veins wasn't an option. No, that would be too good for me—too easy. I had to purge the black within my veins before I would be allowed to die.

_Four._

A soft tracery of pain began to decorate my arm. Each cut a bloody mark on my already-torn flesh. I inched my way up, counting. The numbers beat through my mind. My vision wavered, and my head began to feel as if it had been stuffed full of cotton. The scent of blood misted heavy in the air, coating my tongue, seeping into my lungs.

_Five. _

I lost count, but it didn't matter. The sound of my skin meeting the blade, the drip of blood as it hit the floor, and the slight dizziness that came with the release of the poison coursing through my veins; all culminated into a ball of pressure inside me. I arched my back and let my head fall, hair brushing the flood.

My fingers trembled, tacky with blood. Another cut, adding to the patchwork of old and new, another memory scored into my skin. Opening my eyes, I looked down, following the fissures and valleys of my arm, a landscape drawn with the edge of a knife. The new cuts, craters in my skin, were my artwork; the foundation to the masterpiece of my pain. No words could describe the agony, so I painted it on my skin in blood.

Setting the blade down—the now-sated razor lying on the floor, perfectly lined up with everything else—I took a breath, before picking up the needle and thread. Bending the first, I fumbled a little, piercing the eye with the cotton. My fingers felt thick and clumsy, but I eventually managed to tie off the thread.

_One. _

Hooking the sharp point into my skin, I watched it peak, then break through, tugging the ragged edges of the first cut. Pulling tight, I dragged the edges together, before knotting it and repeating the process, still counting, always counting.

_Two. _

Another stitch. Another black line on crimson-coated skin. Sealing the wounds, I trailed the patchwork with my finger, pressing slightly to wake myself from the trance that captured my mind. I needed to focus.

_Three. _

Thane or Garrus would check on me. They couldn't know. I knew they'd be angry, but I needed to purge the pain, or I'd go insane. People didn't understand self-harm; I couldn't blame them.

_Four. _

From an outsider's point of view, the need to scar and cut didn't make sense, but to me … it was an addiction. I knew I'd never stop, _couldn't _stop. If I did, I'd lose my tenuous grip on reality.

_Five. _

Looking down at my arm, a latticework of ragged stitches and oozing wounds, I sighed softly and wrapped my skin in bandages soaked in medi-gel. I tied off the gauze and pulled my long sleeves down to hide the evidence. I cleaned the mess, leaving no trace of blood, even going as far as spraying perfume to hide the scent of my crimson tears.

Shoulders relaxed I took one last look around. A mantle of calm settled over me, and I left the bathroom, my lips tilted in a gentle smile.

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_**A/N: Well, here's another chapter. I'm so sorry if it triggers anyone, but the character must do as she must. She (Me) Decided this was what she needed to do, and as you've likely guessed, this is one of my coping mechanisms for my mental illness. **_

_**I have to give some huge thanks to Mizdirected, PalavenBlues, and everyone else that has given me so much love and support through this story. I love you all, and you are truly the most amazing friends and beta readers a girl could ask for. **_

_**So, my lovely readers, I hope you enjoyed this, and hope you give some feedback, anything, crit or positives are all gladly received. Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me through this journey. **_

_***Cookies and hugs to all***_

_**See you next chapter. **_


	7. Freedom

**Show me this life: Poets of the Fall.**

* * *

Running a hand over my arm, I pressed my back against the cool walls of the hallway, straining my ears for the two males. When I didn't hear anything, I slipped forward a few more steps, letting go of my arm when pain flared. I didn't want my stitches to tear; not because I couldn't cope with the pain, but because I didn't need Thane or Garrus being able to smell the blood.

_They're aliens _…. _Who knows how strong their sense of smell is? _

"Hello?" I whispered, my voice a quiet croak, like that of a whimpering animal. Still running on the adrenaline of my cutting, the ritual and release warring with the paranoia that curled its claws around my mind, I trembled, fingers shaking on the wall. I didn't want to get caught sneaking around, not when Garrus thought I was a spy. My damp hair stuck to my cheek as I froze, listening.

Silence.

Pushing the jet-black locks from my skin, I peeked around a corner, but the two rooms connected to the little corridor were locked and barred with red. Figuring it was Garrus's room, I dismissed it and continued, my steps silent. _Where are they? _

I hesitated, worrying my lip. After a moment, I crept through the hallway linking the bedrooms and the main area of the apartment, my biker boots making soft scuffing sounds as the carpet gave way to wood flooring. The long sleeved shirt offered some warmth against the cool air, but I couldn't help but shiver, convincing myself that I couldn't feel someone behind me.

"Do you need something?"

I whirled around, my heart leaping to my throat, choking me as I put my hands up defensively. _Shit. _My green-brown eyes met Thane's jet-black ones, and I stammered something incoherent. A mess of fear, surprise, and anxiety flushed through me, causing my words to become garbled.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, stepping back a little, giving me space to breathe.

Clearing my throat, I made a second attempt at speaking, "I-I … Thane. You scared me. Sorry. I didn't mean … I wasn't." I swallowed and focused on my boots, shoulders tight and hands locked in front of me. "I'm sorry."

"There is no need to apologize," he said his voice gentle, holding a hint of warmth that coiled around me like a thick blanket. "How are you feeling?" Genuine concern colored his tone, and something inside me relaxed, like butter melting in the sun.

I snuck a glance at him, before once again focusing on my boots. "Better. Thank you." The awkwardness of the situation caused me to blush, squirming against the urge to flee. _He's standing to close. _This was the first time we'd spoken without me either being in pain or freaking out, and even now, I struggled to breathe. I knew we needed to talk about the fact we already knew of one another, that the voices had thrown us together, but I guess the right time for that conversation hadn't come up yet.

He cleared his throat, bringing my attention back to him. "Are you hungry?"

I shook my head, unable to explain my weird eating habits. I didn't want him to think I was even crazier than he probably already did. Scrambling for a new topic, I licked my lips. "Um … I …. Where's Garrus?" I asked after a second. "I guess I have to answer his questions now, right?"

Thane shook his head. "Garrus has left the apartment on personal business. I thought perhaps you would like to venture outside and purchase some necessities."

I looked up, before I glanced away. His eyes were like deep pools, lakes that I could drown in if I wasn't careful. They showed everything his words didn't. "I … um, sure. I'd love a toothbrush," I told him, running my tongue over my teeth. Grimacing at the furry sensation of an unwashed mouth—despite scrubbing them with my finger and soap earlier—I nodded.

"Then we will purchase one for you." He smiled, full lips tilting slightly.

Tugging at my sleeves, making sure they covered the bandages on my arm, I swallowed. "Are you sure it's okay?" I glanced around, half expecting a furious turian to come storming towards me, despite the drell's words. "He won't be mad?"

Thane lifted a shoulder, shrugging a tiny bit. His lips tilted slightly. "It will do you no good to be locked in the apartment." He gestured for me to lead the way into the main room, his joined fingers catching my attention before they were once again hidden behind his back.

_Are his fingers fused? _

Conscious of him behind me, I stepped into the living room, seeing it for the first time; the mad dash from the bedroom to the bathroom earlier hadn't given me time to check out the decor.

_Definitely a bachelor pad. _Dark walls that lacked any personality were the first thing I noticed, before I let my gaze explore the rest of the room. Basic furniture dotted the room, cluttered with the detritus of two males living together. _Is that a gun? Who keeps a gun on the living room table? _

The soft scent of leather reached my nose, familiar and comforting, drawing my attention away from the deadly weapon casually lying on the table. "I have repaired your jacket," Thane said, his voice soft. "I thought something familiar would help you feel safe." He handed me the jacket, watching me closely.

I squeezed my fingers around the butter-soft leather as if to clutch the memories that swirled into my mind.

_Happy birthday, Billy Goat. _

Tears filled my eyes as I cradled the jacket to my chest, holding it like a newborn baby. The soft echo of my brother's voice swept through me, and my heart weighed heavy in my chest, like a stone full of pain. "Thank you, Thane." I met his eyes, the tears that had welled up finally falling.

He handed me a tissue plucked from a box on the low table beside him, and leaned forward, wiping my tears away. "You are welcome." Once he'd dried my tears, he helped me slide the jacket on. Fear flashed through me when he touched me, but he didn't come close to my arm, so I relaxed. He stepped away, looking down at me. "Are you ready?"

Unable to resist the draw of freedom, I stepped forward and bit my lip. Tugging my sleeve over my hand, I worked my thumb through the hole I'd cut in the bottom of the sleeve. Doing as I'd seen Thane and Garrus do, I swiped my fingers over the green light and exited the apartment.

Hot, smelly air hit me, making me want to turn back into the sweet-smelling apartment, but I just wrinkled my nose and looked around. Shadows clung to every surface, giving a sinister air to the already imposing buildings. Red, black, and gray were the most prevalent colors, and I wished for bright yellows, grass greens, and sky blues. I looked up at the buildings that blocked everything but their imposing figures out.

_I miss the sky. _The sky had been the only constant in my life, even as it changed every day, it was the thing I would lose myself in, watching it change, from blue to gray, sunset-red to blackest night. The sky was my only companion sometimes.

"Is everything here so dark?" I asked, feeling Thane's hand on my lower back. Resisting the urge to pull away, I let him gently guide me forward. We walked through a small carpark area, and Thane pointed to a little red car. He opened the passenger door and handed me inside, before walking around the front and taking the drivers seat.

"Darkness always finds its way, and here, no amount of lighting could take the shadows," Thane said, frowning slightly, before he glanced over at me. "But even here, there can be beauty. I will show you."

I watched a vorcha slip from an alleyway close by. Its ragged frame skittered from shadow to shadow, seeming to scent the air as it raised its head and looked around. "I'm scared," I admitted, shrinking back as sunburst-yellow eyes met mine through the windshield.

"Do not fear. I will keep you safe."

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**_A/N: Welp, here's another chapter for y'all. I'm not sure how I feel about this one, as my muse has not been good to me lately. *Smacks muse around* Anyway, I hope you liked it, and would love some suggestions and feedback, even if it's crit: I love me some crit ;)_**

**_Thanks to my lovely team of beta readers, y'all are amazing. Seriously, guys, go read their work, it's all so much better than mine. PalavenBlues, MizDirected, TenyumeKasumi, LachDannen and Chopped Bread. Y'all are wonderful people for supporting me through this._**

**_Thank you to my readers too. You give me so much support, it means the world to me. I hope you continue and walk through this journey with me. Lovens ya *Gives cookies and hugs*_**

**_Until next time, be safe and happy!_**


	8. Truth

**The song I wrote this to, was Alter Bridge- Blackbird. **

* * *

Silence reigned, stretching between us, becoming claustrophobic and oppressive. I twined my fingers in my lap, shoulders hunched and tense. Worrying my lip, I glanced at Thane, watching him drive. How a person drives is always a big clue on their personality, in my opinion; Thane gave away nothing.

_Of course he doesn't, he's an assassin. Why am I not scared, though? I'm trapped in a car with a killer. A flying car, for that matter? All he has to do is open the door and boop. Splat! God, I really am going fucking insane, aren't I?_

Calm, collected, and relaxed, Thane slipped the small car through the crush of vehicles easily, unaware of my crazy internal ramblings. He seemed to find pathways where there seeming to be none, not even jerking the car around as others were around us. He glanced at me after a moment. "You must have questions," he said, his smoky voice low. He turned back to the … _road? _his focus on the traffic.

Deciding that naming the tunnel-like traffic was a waste of time, as it boggled my mind, I glanced over at him, then away. "I guess I want to know how you knew me." Knots balled in my stomach, twisting and making me feel sick. "I'm not religious, Thane. I don't believe in gods, higher powers, or even souls …. But something put me here from another place."

"Another place?" he asked, not taking his eyes from the traffic around us. "Tell me."

I sighed, knowing this would all sound like the demented ramblings of an lunatic. I'd been here before, trying to explain something in my head, only to be locked up because I couldn't form the right words. I always sounded insane.

_Maybe it's a sign?_

Thane stayed silent, and I could tell he was waiting for me to speak.

I winced, knowing I had to tell him so he knew exactly what kind of crazy he was helping. I swallowed several times, my throat moving convulsively.

_Here goes nothing. Wait for the splat. _

"Basically, I killed myself," I whispered, flinching at his hiss of indrawn breath. "Where I was from, I wasn't … happy. I had a shitty life, and couldn't take it anymore …. I cut my wrists." My fingers played over the scars on my arms, both old and new.

The drell beside me rumbled a soft sound, almost too low for my ears.

I glanced at him, but looked back into the traffic around us. "I just wanted it all to stop. I didn't want to hurt like I was. It was all too much." I knew I sounded almost robotic, speaking of the life I lived as if I was talking about someone else.

"There was no one to help you?" Thane asked, his hands tight on the wheel. "You were alone?"

I nodded. "Pretty much. No one understood, really. I mean, people tried, but how do you explain things like that to them? I was messed up. I hate myself, always have, and one day, I just … stopped trying." I let my head fall back to rest on the seat behind me. "I felt myself dying … slipping away, when this voice—no, several voices, all talking as one—came."

Thane slowed the car, turning to the right and zipping through a gap between two buildings. "What did they say?"

I wasn't really paying attention to the area around us now. I'd gone deep into the memory, letting my mind replay the words. "They gave me a choice. They said I had to choose. Come here, find you, and help you, or … be lost. They said my soul wasn't ready to go, and I was given a choice."

Thane fell silent, flying the car through the twists and turns of the weird streets. Everything glowed red and black, the buildings rising from the ground like twisted trees, offshoots and winding metal arms stretching out as if to snag us from the sky.

"Please … Thane. Will you tell me what they said to you?" I ran my hand up my arm, pushing on the bandages under the leather of my jacket. Just a little sting, a little pain to keep me calm.

"I was meditating," he began, slowing the car even more. He pulled the car to a stop on a large platform, but made no move to get out. "While deep within my mind, I heard a voice calling to me."

I felt my breath catch, and swallowed. "Was it like mine?"

He nodded, his fingers held pressed together in front of him. In a low, almost reverent voice, he spoke again, "It was as you say, several speaking as one. I heard the voices of the gods. Amonkira, Lord of Hunters; Arashu, Goddess of Motherhood and Protection; and Kalahira, Goddess of Oceans and Afterlife."

"Only three?" I asked, sure I'd heard another, a deeper, yet definitely feminine voice woven through the others. "What did they tell you?" I prompted, unable to help myself as I turned in my seat to watch him.

The emerald-scaled drell met my eyes. "They told me that my soul was crying out, that the darkness I have always tried to deny was closing in. They told me one would come, a woman by the name of Lizvetta, and she would save not only me, but my son." He looked away then. Though his body was as still as a moon-shaded lake, his eyes never rested, always wary, watching the area for danger.

"You have a son?" I asked, distracted from the fact that some gods that weren't even in my lexicon were meddling in our lives.

Thane nodded, before opening his door and stepping out. He walked around the front, the lights haloing him again, making him look like the angel I'd first mistaken him for. _The angel of death. What was that name Garrus called him? __Mahkaji? _My door opened, distracting me from my thoughts, and Thane's hand extended.

Reaching out, I placed my warm fingers in his much cooler ones, letting him help me from the car. "Where are we?" I asked once I was on my feet. Tugging my coat around me, the venting system sending a cold breeze across my face.

"This is a safer way into the markets. I do not wish to be observed." He frowned, before looking up at me. "There is nothing to fear up here, and I will not allow you to be harmed." He gently tugged my hand, turning to face a small walkway.

I swallowed. "I'm scared of heights," I muttered, embarrassed.

_What are you doing up there, Billy Goat? _

I blinked as my brother's voice whispered to me, unsure if it was a memory, or if it was just my mind supplying the question I had no answer to. I met Thane's eyes, before doing something I hated to do. I asked for help. My words were nothing more than a mumbled up rush, but he seemed to understand, because he nodded and drew me close.

I kept my cut arm away from him as he walked close to my side, his hand on my lower back. It wasn't intimate or anything, and had an olde-worlde feel to it, but it still made nerves flutter inside my stomach. We crossed the walkway without any problems, but the butterflies were having none of it. They began to pound on the lining of my stomach, threatening to make me sick as Thane opened the hatch at the end.

He gestured for me to go inside, and I paused looking around in open-mouthed shock. I'd woken in a market, but it was nothing like this. I must have been in a nicer area, because what lay in front of me was a metropolis of various races. They ranged from terrifying vorcha scavenging for food, to noble looking asari looking around at the others with terrifying age in their eyes. My own eyes widened, and I looked at Thane.

"What is this place?"

He smiled, a playful glint in his eye. "This is Omega's Market District."

* * *

_**A/N: Hey, everyone! So, finally got another chapter written, go me! I hope you enjoyed it, and will read and review for me, as I love the feedback. **_

_**On to the next chapter! **_


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